


count your blessings, hold them close

by shepherd



Series: Hug Ignis Week [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Airports, Crushes, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 06:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21031850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: HUG IGNIS WEEK, DAY EIGHT: FREE DAY“We’re here to drive you home, anyway.”“You didn’t have to.”Gladio laughed at him. His grin was wry. “I - we know we didn’t. We wanted to.”





	count your blessings, hold them close

Ignis’ suitcase drifted past on the concourse, one of the few left remaining at this ungodly hour, and so lost in his own thoughts he almost missed it completely.

“Shit,” he said, and jumped for it. Hoisting it up, the wheels loudly clattered onto the tile, drawing a few equally tired eyes. It was heavier than Ignis had remembered. Or maybe he was just that tired, exhausted from a long week of negotiations alone and thousands of miles from home. They had kept him busy. Too many voices and too many papers. A dozen different handshakes all vying to crush his hand. Ignis simply smiled, and squeezed back, dreaming of sleeping on the flight home.

Still there had been no chance to relax. Checking his emails on the onboard Wi-Fi turned into an urgent back and forth, filing out requests and timetables, double checking the work of the admin staff, and new report for the King due the very minute he arrived back to the Citadel. Ignis’ eyes burned but he could not touch down empty handed.

Two glasses of wine hadn’t been enough. But at this hour there was no coffee stand left open. Not even an overpriced store for painkillers for his migraine. This was Lucis’ smaller airport, cheaper and closer to Ignis’ home but infamous for its miserable size and clientele. Ignis could only count his untouched blessings that there were no loud, young families clattering through the hall. At this hour there were only others like him – dressed in sharp clothes, clutching their belongings, dead behind the eyes.

Ignis would consider himself lucky if he didn’t fall asleep inside the taxi. It would still be a long ride home. Not for the first time he wished he had a companion, to rest his cheek against their shoulder and drift off knowing he was safe.

Sighing, he turned for the nearest exit. Outside the floodlights were blindingly bright and people huddled in what shelter they could find from the hard autumn winds. Their coats were drawn up and scarves wrapped tight. There was little traffic, thankfully, but it would worsen as they would traul past the Citadel. It was always a mess of cars when Ignis left late, all impatiently waiting to get wherever duty led them.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, slipping past a couple who gawked up at the list of trustworthy taxi numbers. His wheels were loud against the pavement, louder yet as he crossed the road with a grateful wave of his hand to the drivers who let him pass. With any luck the tense pains in his shoulders and numbness in his thighs would depart soon. Before then he was sure it would instead settle into his gloveless hands, the night dark and frozen.

He had almost reached the designated taxi rank when voices made him stop dead.

“Prom, wait up – Igs – hey, Iggy!”

“Igster,” Another voice crowed, both resounding in his head and heart, and Ignis looked over his shoulder. Only one man called him that ridiculous nickname.

Behind him Gladio and Prompto were jogging after him, foolhardy as they rushed across the road. They both panted, wisps of white curling up into the night sky. Prompto was scrambling after him and cared nothing for those around him in his eagerness to reach his big brother. Gladio was more careful, murmuring apologies to any they brushed past. But their eyes were only for Ignis, and they wore smiles brighter than any of the lights that surrounded him.

Ignis didn’t have a chance. Knowing exactly what was coming he released his suitcase and prayed they didn’t knock it down. There were some expensive, fragile souvenirs. “Prom,” he said, heart already feeling lighter than it had since he left and held out his arms. Prompt came sprawling into them, throwing his arms awkwardly around Ignis’ neck. His weight made Ignis stagger back, almost taking a tumble over his suitcase as prophesised. But he steadied himself and could only laugh, even as his lungs burnt.

Those arms tightened. Always overly eager, Prompto squirmed in an attempt to hold him closer. “I missed you,” he declared. Ignis could barely see over the trim of fur that lined his collar. It tickled his nose.

Sliding his arms around Prompto’s waist, Ignis found the energy to smile. His brother was a bundle of pleasant warmth even though he seemed to be trying his best to crush him. “And I missed you,” he murmured as Gladio cast a great shadow over them. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

Prompto just nuzzled closer into the dark wool of Ignis’ coat. Whatever he attempted to say in reply emerged in a muffled complaint, and Gladio huffed a laugh. Settling a hand on Ignis’ shoulder – the sheer heat of his palm somehow cutting through all his layers of clothes, a shiver rippling down his spine – Gladio explained. “You hadn’t told us when you were touching down, but Noctis knew. A bunch of stupid shit meant couldn’t get down in time so we promised we would.” Then he shrugged. “We wanted to see you anyway, so here we are.”

Prompto’s head shot up. His eyes looked almost teary. “We missed you.”

“Thought that went without saying, but yeah, that too,” Gladio agreed, and met Ignis’ eyes. When he smiled it made Ignis feel like a teenager again, wobbling like each of his limbs had become nothing but jelly. In a short-lived breeze Ignis caught the familiar scent of Gladio’s warm and spicy cologne, no clearer indication of home. “It’s good to see you again, Igs.”

Ignis could feel the burn beginning on his cheeks. “I’ve barely been gone a week.”

“Way too long,” Gladio told him firmly, and settled his other hand on the handle of Ignis’ suitcase. The other squeezed his shoulder. “Take one of us next time, so we know you’re good.”

“I text every other day,” he protested, though he knew full well it would not do. A good morning text was not the same as Gladio’s messy hair and blearily eyes, clutching two coffees – both for Ignis. A good night text wasn’t the same as Noctis’ sloppy, one armed hug farewell.

“Not the same,” Gladio said in a tone that indicated that he knew Ignis was being deliberately obtuse, but he smiled wider in the face of Ignis’ defeat. “Texts don’t mean much when we miss you. I mean, sure, it helps, but…” he cleared his throat, and for a moment Ignis could have sworn that Gladio was swallowing down embarrassment. “We’re here to drive you home, anyway.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Gladio laughed at him. His grin was wry. “I - we know we didn’t. We wanted to.”

Prompto finally slipped away from Ignis’ embrace but remained pressed close. A gloved hand curled around Ignis’ bicep. “There’s doughnut holes in the car. Gladio ate most of them but there’s a few left.”

Ignis hadn’t laughed so much since before he had left. It hurt to smile now. “Well, what did you expect? That’s Gladio’s weakness.”

“I thought he’d save a few for you!”

“I did,” Gladio said, defensively, and pulled the suitcase away. They began to slowly walk over to the parking section, crossing the road again, all the while Prompto still leaning lightly on his brother. “You didn’t tell me to stop.”

“I thought you had some self-control.”

“Godsdamnit, Prom,” Gladio growled, casting a weak glower over his shoulder, but Ignis’ stomach began to hurt from his laughter. Every part of him was exhausted, his muscles weak and eyes burning, but Prompto’s arms kept him upright.

His brother lost interest in bickering. “Missed you,” he chirped again, and Ignis softened up, losing the ice that had frozen over him so far from his own. Even the grim of the airport didn’t seem so bad. So distracted, Ignis forgot about his pounding headache.

“And I missed you,” he promised, and Prompto’s smile thawed out the rest of him.


End file.
